The Morning After
by Empathic Frost
Summary: After a night of drinking, Remy finds himself in an odd situation with another team mate--Bobby.
1. The Morning After part 1

None of the characters are mine, they belong to marvel.   
The Morning After  
--Frost  
  
  
The morning after was never quite as good. Never quite as magical. In fact, it was never anywhere near good, or magical. The morning after was when that beautiful slow motion effect of the night left the senses, leaving one feeling like time was going by so fast it was hardly worth trying to make heads or tails of it.   
  
Remy LeBeau, to put it simply, hated the morning after. With a short groan, he rolled over in his bed, the starchy sheets making soft whisping noises as he did so. He didn't dare open his eyes yet. He knew, full well, that it was the morning after. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't quite remember what had gone on the night before. That was always a bad sign. It meant that he'd gone a little too far into those drinks. And, sighing inwardly, it also meant that he'd probably made a few mistakes. He silently hoped to God that his mistakes hadn't been that bad, and that this day would past quickly, uneventfully, and without too much of a headache.   
  
'Time to face your fears, LeBeau. Time to open your eyes and see how bad you fucked up this time....' It was sound advice, that he had given himself. And so he heeded it. His eyes--beautiful crimson orbs that swam in an endless sea of obsidian--opened slowly, taking the time they needed to adjust to the light.   
  
Then it hit him. He didn't use starch sheets; his were always silk. That, and the fact that his room didn't have a window on the far wall to the left. He wondered how he could be so ignorant of that fact that soft breathing noises were coming from behind him; that slight weight on the other half of the bed. Shit, he cursed the powers that be, did the morning after always have to be so bad? Now... to figure out who's room he was in, without disturbing whomever he was sleeping next to....  
  
Grinding his teeth in slight annoyance, he sat up slowly, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. If he was lucky, it had just been a one night stand, just some random person from the bar. He stood up from the bed, recieving an annoyed groan from the other occupant. He was almost too frightened to look. Chiding himself softly for being so worried, he turned around to face the bed. And was really rather surprised at what he found.   
  
Hair that was somewhere inbetween a sandy blonde and brown peeked out from under the sheets--a little too shortly cropped to look messy, even now. Shoulders too, that were toned, but not to the point of being called over muscular. Remy LeBeau blinked, and stared for a moment. The man was pretty--not in the nearly delicate way that Remy was himself, but in a different way. It was hard to explain, and even harder to think of through the headache that was quickly developing.   
  
Bobby Drake. He'd gotten drunk, and slept with Bobby Drake-the living ice cube. Despite his surprise, Remy was almost proud of the decision he'd made last night. Bobby was a good guy-- honest, caring, good looking. He'd probably been just as drunk, though, or else this never would have happened. Shit, shit. 'I hate the morning after,' was all that Remy could think.   
  
He shook his head, and silently found the clothes on the floor that had obviously been thrown off with some haste the night before. It was early enough in the morning that he could sneak back to his own room without being caught. And if he was lucky enough, Bobby wouldn't remember much of anything. Kid had enough trouble being an x-man, the worst thing that could happen was that he'd find out he'd slept with the scoundrel of the team....   
  
Bundle of clothes in his arms, he snuck to the door--narrowly avoiding a few odds and ends on the floor. Hand touched the door knob, turned...and then he nearly died from surprise alone. "Moron cajun," came a sleepy voice from the bed. "Get back in bed, it's still early." Remy's eyes, wide as saucers, stared confusedly at at half sitting Bobby Drake, who was scowling at him quite convincingly. "Look," Bobby started again, "Don't make me pull some line about how I need you here just because I'm cold. We both know it's not true. But get back into bed, anyway." And with that, he went back to sleep.   
  
Remy stared for a moment longer at the form of Bobby Drake. Well, he obviously knew what had gone on...and didn't seem to mind yet... "Oh, fuck," he muttered to himself, dropping his bundle of clothes and crawling back under the covers to spoon himself against the warmth of Bobby. "Still early...'can wait a l'il longer f'r it t'be de actual mornin' after..." 


	2. Morning After Part 2

Morning After, Part 2  
--Frost  
(None of the characters are mine)  
  
  
Morning--truly morning this time. The warm sun spilled through the window and onto the bed, leaving both of it's occupants feeling a sense of comfort--not to mention overly toasty.   
  
Now, Remy had a notion, that if he would just get up and scoot over a bit from Bobby, that neither of them would be so hot anymore. And it was a good notion; logical and everything. He wasn't going to do it, though. Because, for once in his life, he wasn't sure what to do with the fact that he was in another persons' room--that that man had his arms wrapped around his waist, and that that man had his face pressed against his back. Usually, he could blow it off. He could get up, smile charmingly and say "It's been nice, mebbe we can do it again some time!" and then, he could walk off. Unembarassedly. Unafraid of what others would think--and more importantly--unafraid of what he would think of himself for it later.   
  
But it was different today. Today, he was sleeping in Bobby Drake's bed. So, instead of getting up and moving over (or just running away) like any sane person, Remy LeBeau was pretending he was asleep. He kept those pretty eyes of his closed and his breathing normal. When in doubt, wait until your partner rolls over and -then- make a run for it! And so wait, he did.   
  
And wait....  
And wait....  
  
And wai--"I know you're awake, just so you know." The voice was soft, really nothing much higher than a whisper. But that's all that was needed. It rang out clearly in the room that had been so quiet only a moment before.   
  
And Remy LeBeau positively -jumped-. He was in an upright and sitting position in less time than even he thought possible, and staring at Bobby with eyes that were probably--from the look on Drake's face-- amusingly large. He had the sudden urge to pull the covers back up to hide his exposed body. Either that or blush. Deciding that both options weren't very...him, he did neither. He only stared at the other man in bed.  
  
Bobby looked wide awake--as if he had been for hours; deep blue eyes sparkled with amusement and he even had the nerve to smile. It occured to Remy that Bobby had probably been waiting for him to do something the whole time. So, do something he would. "...What?" he asked, his voice hovering at the point of childish and somewhat accusing. Unfortunately this made Bobby's smile go wider. Damned icecube.   
  
"Stop dat," he narrowed his eyes, and tried his hardest to look threatening while still naked. It wasn't that hard, he noticed, as Bobby tried sobering.   
  
It was Bobby's turn to talk--mostly because Remy had decided that if he didn't talk, he couldn't get himself into trouble. "...So." It was obvious that Bobby's commanding presense from only a few hours was gone. ...It must have been his lack of sleep....   
  
Remy sighed. Yeah, he hated the morning after. It was late now, and someone would be coming to wake Bobby up--no, not the Cajun. Sleeping in late was something Remy always did, and they had given up on him long ago. But Bobby, they actually cared about. If he didn't show up after a certain amount of time, they'd start to worry. Remy frowned inwardly, trying to think over his best plans of action.   
  
"So," Bobby said casually, "Wanna be my boyfriend?" It was so casual, Remy had nearly missed it. It was like "Oh, nice weather, huh?" Casual.   
  
Nearly missed it. But not quite. He paused in mid thought, and then blinked at Bobby. He frowned slightly. Maybe it hadn't been commanding, but it had been brave enough. Remy blinked again. "Well...merde." Was all he said.   
  
Poor Bobby looked utterly stricken. He'd taken hours to work up all that courage to ask the Cajun out, and the most he got was a "merde"? He felt like crying. Or pouting and throwing a fit. Or both.   
  
"Guess we can try dat out," Came a smooth reply. Too smooth. Silk rubbing against velvet smooth. A crooked grin. "Remy, he ain' makin' no promises, an' he ain' gonn' say he love you, but we can see, non?"   
  
By the look of it, that had been more than the Icecube was expecting. His eyebrows rose up in surprise, and his mouth parted into a wondering little "o". He stayed that way for a long moment, and then he nearly -jumped- on Remy. "Good enough for me. What do ya say we try out a few of the moves that we didn't get to last night?" His lips met Remy's, not really allowing time for answer.   
  
Remy now wished that he could remember last night. But, pushing that thought aside, and focusing on the current moment, he wasn't too sad about it. There would be more times to remember, if all went well.   
  
Maybe-just maybe- the morning after wasn't so bad after all. 


End file.
